


keep you warm

by flourdusted (fallengraceless)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, College AU, F/F, Modern AU, established octaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 22:45:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6539554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallengraceless/pseuds/flourdusted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>clarke, raven, and octavia go skiing over winter break.</p><p> or, the one where drunk clarke is too flirty for her own good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	keep you warm

“And we! Are never, ever, ever! Getting back together!”

“For two people who are supposed to be dating, you sure sing breakup songs enthusiastically,” Clarke says from the backseat, and Octavia turns around and smiles.

“Just because we’re happy doesn’t mean we can’t sing along to shitty pop music. It’s a road trip, Clarke, come on.”

Clarke is doing her best not to smile, but she can’t help it when Raven is tapping out the beat on the steering wheel and Octavia is grinning at her like a kid, dancing along in the passenger seat. Her two best friends have become a little bit intolerable ever since they finally pulled their heads out of their asses and started dating, but at least she hasn’t been kicked out of their admittedly fantastic road trips.

“Would you really, honestly, rather we sang sappy love songs to each other?”

Clarke mocks gagging, which sends Raven into a fit of laughter.

“Eyes on the road, Reyes.”

“Fine, backseat driver.”

Clarke sticks her tongue out and Raven pretends not to notice.

“I thought you said eyes on the road.”

“Oh, whatever.” Clarke grins, settling back down into the backseat with her duffel bag behind her neck. She might have gotten aced out for shotgun by Octavia (“girlfriend privileges”), but at least she gets to nap.

“Wake me up when we can see the mountains.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Raven says.

“If you can sleep through me singing Nicki Minaj for the next two hours.” Octavia grins.

Clarke just buries her face in her sweatshirt, ignoring them. They’re an hour and a half into the drive from Denver, and the mountains aren’t close enough yet. She’s been craving snow since November, but between her organic chemistry homework and Raven’s engineering lab, they haven’t had a free weekend to come out snowboarding all year.

Which is how they found themselves piling boots and jackets and three snowboards into the back of Raven’s Jeep, which can hold a surprising amount of their shit. Along with more alcohol than they should really be in possession of. But hey. It’s winter break, and Clarke’s been working her ass off all semester. They can afford to loosen up a little.

\---

Either Raven turned down the music or Clarke fell asleep to Octavia’s singing, because she doesn’t wake up until they start rounding curves on mountain roads. She opens her eyes to sunshine. God, it’s beautiful out here. She’d forgotten how much she missed it. When she was a kid, she came out here all the time with her dad. After he died, though, her mom picked up more hours at the hospital, and they didn’t have any free weekends to come out to the mountains. Now, she makes the trip once or twice a year, and the view is just as breathtaking every time.

The route, apparently, is a little less nostalgic, because Clarke is unceremoniously pulled out of her reminiscing by Octavia.

“Clarke, will you please tell Raven that it’s not a deadly weakness to consult a map?”

“I fall asleep for an hour and you two are fighting already,” Clarke teases.

“It’s not fighting if I’m right,” says Raven.

“It is when you refuse to look at the map and have already driven in circles twice!”

“Have not!”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Do I need to separate you two?”

“No!” they say simultaneously.

Octavia grabs Raven’s hand. “She’s still my girlfriend, even if her navigation skills are a little subpar.”

“Okay, now I can’t decide if you guys are toddlers or disgusting or both.”

Raven, in the rearview mirror, flips Clarke off.

“Hey, only trying to help out here. Octavia’s right, shouldn’t we have gotten there by now?”

“Yes.” Raven grits her teeth. “But I _know_ where I’m _going_.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t maybe check? Octavia and I both have our phones.”

“No use.” Octavia turns around. “We’re out of service range, at least here.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a map in the glove compartment. If I know Raven, anyway. Miss Emergency Preparedness.”

“This is not an emergency.”

“Raven, I promise we won’t tell anyone that you once looked at a map.”

“And the sooner we get there, the sooner I’ll make you hot cocoa,” Octavia says.

“Fine. Only because I love you.”

“You talking to me or Octavia?” Clarke teases.

“Oh, shut up.” Raven cracks a smile. “Hand me the map, Octavia. You win.”

Octavia grins and reaches back to high five Clarke. “You’re the best.”

“Oh, I know.” Clarke smirks. “Now hand Raven the map so I can go back to sleep.”

“Come on, Clarke, you don’t want to sleep through this,” Raven says, gesturing at the gorge they’re in, which really is spectacular.

“Okay, true. But I’m definitely ready to stop being the mom friend and start being the hot snowboarder friend.”

“That slot’s already taken,” says Octavia.

“There’s always room for more hot snowboarder girls.”

Octavia can’t really argue with that, so they turn up the music – this time they’ve graduated to Beyoncé – and drive.

\---

By the time they finally pull into town, the sun is beginning to set. Raven goes to check in and leaves Clarke and Octavia to lug all their gear in – her leg’s been acting up, and she wants to save it for the slopes as much as possible.

Once all their stuff is piled into their tiny, college-budget hotel room, though, it barely looks like there’ll be room for them. There are snowboards leaned up against the dresser, coats taking up most of the closet, and Octavia has already claimed a bed, spread-eagled across it.

When Raven comes back, Clarke jumps on the other one.

“This one’s mine!”

Raven cocks an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Try me.”

Raven’s not one to back down from a challenge, so she jumps on the bed, hurt leg be damned, nearly managing to knock Clarke off of it.

“I. Didn’t think you’re were going to take me up on that,” Clarke says, a little out of breath.

Raven grins. “Just wait till we get out on the mountain tomorrow.”

Meanwhile, Octavia is sitting across the room, looking pointedly at Raven.

“Are you saying you don’t want to share a bed with me?” She grins.

Raven looks at Clarke, who just raises her eyebrows. “Well, are you?”

Raven huffs. “Fine. You win.”

“So I _do_ get something for all the time I spend tolerating you two undressing each other with your eyes.”

“Watch your mouth, or Octavia and I are taking both of the beds.”

Clarke doesn’t even bother to come up with a witty reply. The two of them have been cuddling since before they started dating. There’s no way they’re sleeping apart. And if she has to deal with their giggling and flirting, well, at least she gets a fluffy bed all to herself.

All to herself. Yep.

\---

They wake up in the morning to fresh powder and bright blue sky, and even Octavia is out of bed by eight. Their hotel may be small, and okay, a little dingy, but it’s less than a block from the lift. They’re at the top of the mountain by 8:30, and Clarke takes a second just to breathe in. The air up here is cold and crisp, the snow is fresh, and she can’t wait.

Neither can Raven, who blows past her, practically screaming, or Octavia, who’s right on her heels.

“Wait for me, you losers!”

“No way!”

Clarke laughs as she pushes off down the hill, and this is what she lives for. Chasing her best friends down the mountain, getting snow in her hair, forgetting about med school and Finn and anything else that has to do with Denver. This is their week.

They spend the rest of the day about the same way. Raven ducks out around two because her brace can only take so many bumps, so she sits in the chalet with hot chocolate while Clarke and Octavia try to one-up each other. (Octavia wins, but only because Raven gets to vote).

By the time Octavia and Clarke finally tire out, the sun is getting low and the evening crowd is starting to come out.

“Want to go grab drinks?” Raven asks.

“Hell yeah.” Octavia has been avoiding the party scene for the past few months because of her early-morning workouts for crew, but they’ve all decided to take the week off. Even Clarke, who hasn’t been out for real since –

Well, for a long time.

There’s only one bar in the tiny little ski town, so they drop their gear at the hotel, change clothes, and head out. Clarke actually tries to leave without changing, but Raven puts a stop to that.

“Are you seriously coming out with us in your fleece?”

“Yes.”

“That wasn’t really a question. Come on, Clarke, what if there are hot ski girls at the bar to flirt with?”

It’s tempting – God knows Clarke Griffin loves a drunken makeout session – but she’s having a hard time getting excited about it now.

“Not interested.”

“This from the girl who wanted to be the ‘hot snowboarder’ not 24 hours ago.”

“That was before my thighs were killing me.”

“Sorry, but who are you and what have you done with Clarke? Sore thighs never stopped you before.”

Clarke heaves a breath.

“I’m just not ready yet, okay?”

“Clarke, it’s been five months. I’m not saying you have to date anyone if you don’t want to. But there’s hardly any harm in flirting. Hell, you could probably pick up anyone in that bar, including me,” Raven says. “If I weren’t dating Octavia,” she adds quickly.

Clarke cracks a smile. Even if she’s not really in a going-out mood, she appreciates the compliment. “Nice save.”

“I do my best. Now are you going to put on real clothes or not?”

Clarke sighs. Her friends are assholes, but they are her friends, and she promised she’d enjoy this trip. Plus, once the two of them start dancing, they won’t care what she is (or isn’t) up to. So she tugs on jeans that she knows her ass looks great in and borrows a top from Raven.

“That’s much better,” says Raven

“Thanks, fashion consultant.”

“You’ll thank me when you get laid.”

“We’ll see about that.”

\---

When they get to the bar, it’s still a little early for a drinks-and-dancing kind of night, and they’re all starving from being on the mountain all day, so they order dinner first.

“Wow-mph, okay, I’m glad you convinced me to come-” Clarke says through a mouthful of French fries, and Raven laughs.

“If we have to tempt you with French fries to get you to come out with us, I’m all for it,” Octavia says, learning over to kiss Raven on the cheek.

“What, so they don’t kick you out for being the world’s most disgusting couple?”

“Maybe,” Raven says, returning Octavia’s kiss.

“You’re lucky that I love you.”

“Oh, I know,” they say at the same time, and Clarke smiles. If she admitted it, they’d call her a sap, but she really does miss being out with her two best friends.

By the time they’ve devoured hamburgers and several orders of French fries, the bar is starting to look a little more lively. Raven and Octavia are playing spot-the-queer-girl, which is one of their favorite games. It’s usually pretty amusing for Clarke, too, but the past month or two it’s been decidedly less so. Because spot-the-queer-girl has turned into make-Clarke-go-talk-to-her, and as much as Clarke appreciates her friends’ efforts, she has no intentions of taking any of these girls home.

“Come on, she’s hot,” Raven says, gesturing at a pretty dark-haired girl with a braid and a Colorado College sweatshirt.

“I mean, yeah.”

Clarke does have to give it to her, Raven’s got good taste. “But just because she’s pretty doesn’t mean I have to flirt with her. Unlike someone else I know.”

Raven mocks offense. “Who, me?”

“I don’t see any other hopeless flirts around here.”

Raven laughs. “Fine, you’ve got me. But I’ve got a girlfriend. Octavia, wanna come dance?” Raven offers Octavia her hand.

Octavia takes it happily, and the two of them head out to the dance floor. It’s pretty small, but the town is busy this week, so it’s crowded. They dance like no one else is there, though, laughing and teasing each other, taking drink breaks when standing too long makes Raven’s leg hurt.

After a few rounds of coming back to find Clarke still sitting at the table, Raven does her best to drag her out.

“Come on, you said you’d come have fun with us!”

“I am having fun,” Clarke says, holding up her glass. “See?”

“Come on. Look how many girls there are for you to dance with,” Raven says, gesturing out to where Octavia is dancing in the middle of a group of her apparently new friends.

“I’m just not feeling it tonight, Rae.”

“That’s what you’ve been saying for months.”

“And it’s been true for months. Go have fun with Octavia, okay? I promise I’m having a good time.”

And she is, she really is, seeing her two best friends in the world dance and get progressively drunker. If she’s a little lonely, well, she’s sure not admitting that to Raven. After about an hour of steadfastly refusing to dance, Clarke grabs a seat on a barstool in the hopes of convincing Raven that she’s trying.

What really ends up happening is that she orders one too many of whatever the bartender recommended, and when she looks up, it takes a little longer than usual for her eyes to focus.

When they do, though. Shit. The bartender is hot.

Long, messy brown hair, snaking tattoos on one forearm, and a t-shirt that she can’t quite read without staring at her boobs longer than would really be polite.

She does have really nice boobs, though.

“You need something?” the bartender asks, with a little smirk that makes her even hotter.

“Oh, um. No. No, I’m fine,” Clarke stutters, and shit, the girl has a nice voice. Since when does she care about girls’ _voices_? Since when does she care about hot girls at all?

Since she’s a lot drunker than she realized, apparently.

“Really? Because you don’t look quite fine.”

“I am. I promise,” Clarke says, trying really fucking hard not to stare at her lips. Which are pink. And soft-looking. And Clarke has not kissed anyone in a very long time, and didn’t think she wanted to, but now she might be rethinking that decision.

“Nice tattoos,” she says, before her brain can tell her that that is not a good idea. At all. The bartender has just turned around, but must hear her.

“Um, thanks,” she says, looking a little confused. Clarke feels her cheeks go red and decides to blame it on the alcohol and not the fact that the girl who’s been serving her drinks all night is actually really, really hot.

“So do you live here?”

Clarke. Needs. To. Stop. This. Right. Now.

“I’m just working here over winter break,” she says, quick, no more information than necessary.

Clarke shouldn’t be doing this. She shouldn’t be staring at her back as she pours beers for the flannel-wearing guys sitting across the bar, and she really should not be contemplating whether her tattoos might snake up past her arms.

When she turns around, Clarke notices the name tag, partly obscured by the girl’s hair. _Lexa._ She turns it over on her tongue. It’s a good name. Fitting. She briefly considers introducing herself, but her remaining rationality says that that is not going to lead anywhere good.

Her mouth, apparently, has other ideas.

“So, Lexa. You probably get asked this all the time,” Clarke starts, stumbling a little, “but. You’re really pretty. Can I buy you a drin – a drink? When your shift is over?”

Lexa smiles, but it’s clearly only out of politeness. “Sorry, no.”

“Oh. Um. Yeah. Yeah, okay. Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Clarke says, getting up from the barstool. She realizes a little too late that her legs aren’t exactly steady, and ends up catching herself on the bar, one hand over Lexa’s.

“God, sorry,” Clarke says, because Lexa’s eyes have gone deer-in-the-headlights and she really just needs to get out of here before she makes even more of a fool of herself.

“It’s okay,” Lexa says, like this happens all the time. Which it probably does. She’s so hot, and she works at a bar, and God, Clarke is being the worst kind of drunk. What on earth made her think that was a good idea?

Luckily, Raven and Octavia have her back, because Raven comes up and slides an arm around her waist.

“Sorry about my friend. We’ll walk her home.”

Lexa nods, acknowledging it.

Once they’re outside, Raven starts teasing.

“Not into flirting? Oh really?”

“Shuddup,” Clarke slurs, “she’s pretty.”

“I know she is,” Raven says, “but you, my dear, are drunk off your ass, and we need to take you home.”

Octavia and Raven each take a side, and they walk back to the hotel. They must go to bed at some point, because Clarke wakes up with a pounding headache and a glass of water by her bedside.

“Morning, sunshine,” says Raven from across the room.

Clarke furrows her eyebrows. “How come you get away without a hangover?”

“Because I wasn’t trying to impress some girl I don’t even know.”

Oh. Right. That happened. Clarke buries her face in her pillow.

“Can we just pretend that didn’t happen and get out in the snow?”

Octavia, from in the bathroom, laughs. “Sure, if you can stand after that.”

“Oh, be quiet. I’ll be just fine.” Clarke sits up. “After I take several ibuprofen.”

“Already got you,” Raven says, pointing to the counter.

“I love you.”

“Hey, watch it,” says Octavia, “that’s my girlfriend you’re talking to.” She smiles.

Clarke swallows the ibuprofen, along with the glass of water Raven left out. “O, your girlfriend is the best.”

“I know.” Octavia grins.

“So about this girl from last night. What happened to Miss Mopey don’t-make-me-dance? You were staring at her like you were going to undress her.”

“I retract what I said about you being the best.”

“Seriously, Clarke,” Octavia chimes in, “I haven’t seen you like that in a long time. Maybe you should ask her out.”

“Something makes me think she tried,” says Raven, and Clarke can feel her cheeks go red.

“Oh, whatever. I’m never going to see her again. And she wasn’t even that hot – you know how I get when I’m drunk, Rae.”

“Oh, I know.” Raven winks. “It’s a wonder she didn’t take you up on your offer.”

Clarke smacks Raven lightly with the sweater she’s trying to put on. “Shut up.”

“Aw, fine. You’re no fun. Should we get to it?” she asks, gesturing at the snowdrifts outside. “Or do you need to take a rest morning?”

“I’ll be fine,” Clarke says, then proceeds to grit her teeth when the next wave of headache hits. “I’ll be fine. No drinks for me tonight, though, I think.”

“That sounds like a good plan.”

They make their way over to the mountain, but they get distracted on the way in – there’s a little coffee shop just a little ways from the bottom of the lift, and Octavia goes all puppy-eyes at Raven and asks for a hot chocolate.

“Clarke? Wanna stop?”

“Sure.” She hasn’t eaten anything since last night, and she’s still definitely feeling the hangover, so hot cocoa and some kind of pastry sound really good right now.

Or they do until she notices the girl sitting at the corner table by the window.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

It’s Lexa. Of course. Of all the people. Clarke’s surprised she even remembers the girl’s name, she was so drunk last night, but then again, she _was_ really hot.

And unfortunately still is. Even without the drunk goggles. She’s got her hair tied up loosely, reading the paper, and _God,_ those tattoos only accentuate the fact that she has fantastic arms.

Clarke is thinking some seriously unholy thoughts about those tattoos when Raven jabs her in the arm.

“Clarke. You going to order there, sweetheart?”

“Oh. Um. Yeah. Small hot chocolate and a croissant, please,” she says, still distracted. Raven follows her gaze and breaks into her famous shit-eating grin.

Damn. She was hoping to escape quickly.

“Look who’s here, Clarke.”

“I know,” Clarke says through her teeth, doing her best to shrink into her scarf.

“Somebody’s blushing,” Octavia says.

“O. I don’t need this from you too.”

It’s true, though, she can feel her cheeks going red, and she still can’t stop staring at Lexa sitting there, one hand in her hair, and Clarke can’t help but wish it was -

“Small hot chocolate!” calls the barista, and she has never been happier about a hot chocolate. She needs to get out of here before she does something stupid. Again.

Raven has other ideas, though.

“Come on, Clarke, go talk to her.”

“Rae. No. That is the worst idea you’ve had this month. And that’s counting the science experiment in the sink.”

“She’s hot. She’s sitting right there. We’re only here for a week, what do you have to lose?”

“My dignity.”

“You’re no fun.” Raven pouts. “But fine. We can leave. Don’t come complaining to me about how long it’s been since you got laid, though.”

Clarke just sticks out her tongue at that one, though, and they leave before Lexa notices them. If she would even have recognized her.

Why does she want her to have recognized her?

Clarke pushes that thought aside as fast as possible, and they head out to the mountain. It’s another gorgeous bluebird day, the kind that almost makes Clarke forget about her hangover. She chases Octavia down a mogul run, and they both stop and stare when they find Raven at the bottom of the bunny hill, helping some little kid with a red helmet put his skis on.

“What are you two doing here?” she says when she looks up.

Octavia goes pink. “We just. Finished our run. That was really sweet of you, by the way.”

“The kid just needed help.” Raven shrugs. “Plus, he had a Batman helmet. Kid’s got good taste.”

Octavia laughs and leans in to kiss Raven on the nose, which is the only part of her face that’s exposed.

“Okay, even I have to admit that was adorable,” Clarke says, and Octavia and Raven both have the dopiest smiles. “But I can only take so much disgusting puppy love per day. Anybody wanna race?”

Raven grins. “What does the winner get?”

“Drinks on the other two?”

“I thought you weren’t up for going out again tonight,” Octavia teases.

Clarke bites her lip. “Yeah, okay, I didn’t think that one through. Loser buys hot chocolate?”

“You’re on!” Octavia says, and Raven grins.

“What’s the challenge? Fastest one down the bunny hill?”

“I dare you to try Back Alley,” Octavia says, a glint in her eyes, and Raven’s face goes serious.

“You think you’re up for that?”

“Try me.”

“Clarke, you in?”

“Hell yes.”

So the three of them set off on the three-lift ride up to the very top of the mountain. They’re going down the back, which doesn’t get groomed often, and is known for having runs that aren’t really much more than glorified cliffs. They’ve stood at the top of Back Alley before, sure - Raven’s been trying to psych herself up to do it since she was probably eight, but none of them has ever actually gone down.

When they get to the top, it’s pretty clear – not a lot of people come all the way up here, anyway, and it’s quieter here today than yesterday. The wind is blustery up above the tree line, so Clarke pulls her goggles down.

By the time she can see again, Raven and Octavia have already taken off towards the top of the run.

“Hey, I didn’t think we were starting yet!”

“Too bad!” Raven calls out, and Clarke just catches a glimpse of her dropping in over the edge, Octavia following close behind.

“I’m gonna kick your ass, Reyes!”

Clarke laughs and sets off after them, carving up the snow left and right. It’s exhilarating, the wind rushing past her helmet, chasing Octavia by the orange pom pom on her hat, and she’s so damn close to catching up to Raven, just needs to avoid the tree stump, so she sweeps out wide, and –

She’s promptly on her back, the wind completely knocked out of her, and the only thing in her field of vision is a ski pole.

A ski pole?

Nobody else is out on this run. Or at least that’s what she thought.

Clarke does her best to roll over, ignoring the tightness in her rib cage, and squints up the hill. There’s a figure there, a little hard to make out, but it looks like a woman.

Shit. She just totally crashed into the girl. She tries to get up to go apologize, but her body protests, so she lets herself fall back into the snow for a few seconds.

When she has her breath back a little, she gets up and climbs over to the woman, who lost all of her gear – there’s one ski about ten feet downhill of her, which Clarke grabs, and her hat is just a red bit poking out of the snow.

“God, I’m so sorry,” Clarke says, “I didn’t see you, that was totally my fault, are you okay?” and that’s when she looks up.

God. Fucking. Dammit.

It’s Lexa. What did Clarke _do_ to deserve this shit kind of luck?

“I’m alright. Thanks,” Lexa says, and for a moment she has a small smile, and Clarke thinks fuck, she’s gorgeous, and then wants to hit herself for it – come on, Clarke, now is not the time to be this fucking gay.

Clarke must look different in her helmet, because it takes Lexa a second. “Oh. I remember you.” She laughs a little. “Don’t tell me you’re snowboarding while inebriated now.”

Clarke would really like to sink into the snow right about now.

“No. Um. No, God, sorry. I was just racing a couple of my friends.”

“Well, be a little more careful next time,” Lexa says, terse, but there’s still that hint of a smile, and Clarke wants to pull down her hat and never speak to her again. And is also. Maybe just a little bit turned on?

She chooses to ignore that for the moment.

“I will, I promise. Sorry for making a fool of myself. Again.” Clarke bites her lip.

There’s that laugh again.

“Don’t worry about it. You might want to stick to the front of the mountain in the future, though.”

By now, Lexa has her skis back on and has righted her hat, which looks far cuter on her than it has a right to.  She skis off without saying goodbye, which Clarke definitely deserves.

What she doesn’t deserve is the view. Because Lexa is an incredible skier – graceful, which she should have expected, she’s all tall lanky muscle, but she moves like she’s part of the mountain itself, and Clarke is definitely not staring. Especially not at her ass. How is it fair for someone’s ass to look good in _ski pants_?

She needs to stop this right now. Clarke needs to get her goddamn act together and get down this mountain before Raven and Octavia send the Ski Patrol after her.

If she boards a little faster to keep Lexa in sight as she finishes the run, well, that’s her business.

\---

When she finally gets to the bottom, Raven and O are waiting.

“I think you owe us three hot chocolates each” is the first thing Octavia says.

“Yeah, what happened? Did you run into a tree?” Raven asks.

Clarke looks down at her feet.

“You did run into a tree! Clarke Griffin, I am never letting you live this down.”

“I did not run into a tree!” Clarke ducks her head. “I um. I may have run into Lexa.”

“What’d you do, seduce her? You’ve been up there like ten minutes.”

“Um. No. Rae. I literally, not figuratively, ran into her.”

Octavia and Raven both burst out laughing. Raven laughs so hard she falls over and is sitting on her butt in the snow, still laughing.

“Oh. My. God. Clarke, how is it that you’re this much of a mess and still this hot?”

“Shut up, Raven.”

“I can’t believe you _ran into her_. Was she pissed?”

“She mostly just made fun of me, honestly.”

“Wow. Maybe we should go out for drinks tonight after all,” Octavia says.

“Yeah, wow. You literally run into the girl after drunkenly trying to pick her up and all she does is flirt with you? Even _I’m_ not that lucky.”

Octavia coughs pointedly.

“Okay, I am that lucky. Bu only because Octavia can’t escape me.” Raven reaches up to grab her hand and kisses the back of her mitten. “Anyway. Mission get the girl tonight?”

Clarke glares. “I’m vetoing that.”

“But she’s so clearly into you!” Raven says, and Octavia hits her in the shoulder.

“I’ve had enough of looking like an idiot in front of hot girls for today, thanks,” Clarke says.

“Fine. We don’t have to go. But only because you promised me hot chocolate.”

Clarke shakes her head, laughing. “You two are the worst. But I love you. Wanna do a few more runs and then head in? My body probably can’t take a whole lot more after that fall.”

“Sounds good to me,” Raven says, “my leg’s not too happy with me either.”

Octavia looks a little disappointed, but Raven assures her that she can go have fun in the terrain park while she and Clarke sit in the chalet, and that sounds good to Clarke.

\---

Their next day out goes considerably better. Clarke doesn’t crash into anything, tree or hot girl, and she even wins a couple of races against Octavia, which is a feat. They’re all feeling great when they head back to the hotel, even Raven, whose leg is having a good day.

“It’s a cause for celebration,” she says. “Let’s go out?”

“Sure,” Clarke says, before she realizes what she’s saying yes to. There’s only one bar here, and given her luck, relying on hoping Lexa’s not working tonight seems like a bad option. “Is there any place we can go that’s _not_ the bar from the other day?”

Raven laughs. “Still trying to avoid your Princess Charming?”

“Maybe.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, there’s only one bar in town, so unless going out consists of sitting in the public library across the street, I think you’re just going to have to face your fear.”

Clarke buries her head in the pillow. “Ugh.”

“Come on, you’ll forget all about her once you have a few drinks. Octavia and I will dance with you if you’re not in a flirting mood tonight,” Raven says, and Clarke smiles, because okay, her friends are assholes sometimes, but they really do care about her.

“Fine. Just for tonight.” Clarke can’t help but smile when Octavia jumps off the bed in excitement. Wow. They really have been cooped up the past few months. Maybe it’ll be good for her. And hey, maybe Lexa won’t be working tonight after all.

\---

They get to the bar and Clarke heads out to the dance floor while Raven gets them drinks. When she comes back, she’s smiling, but Clarke knows that smile.

“Guess who’s working tonight?”

“Don’t even try.”

“Aw, come on, you’re never going to see the girl again. And you’re right, she’s hot – if you won’t flirt with her, I’m sure some other girl will.”

Clarke feels a little tug of competitive spirit in her chest. Damn it, Raven knows her too well. Freshman year, they used to go out and bet on who could take a girl home first. Clarke may be past that now, but she’s still not about to just give up. And Lexa’s so hot. God. Why does she do this to herself?

“Where’s my drink?” Clarke says.

“There’s my girl.” Raven hands her something that looks fruity, and Clarke hopes it’s strong. She’s going to need it to survive tonight.

She stays out on the dance floor with Raven and Octavia for a little while, until she feels the buzz and her hair is falling out of its ponytail and she’s laughing at Octavia’s stumbling attempt to waltz with Raven to something that is definitely not waltz-able.

Eventually, though, her drink is gone and she’s thirsty from dancing, so she begs Raven to go for her.

“Please, Rae.”

“Be a big girl, Clarke, come on. She probably won’t even remember you.”

“But-“

“Plus, what if she’s flirting with some other pretty girl?”

Clarke pouts. “Fine.”

She heads over to the bar, where Lexa is working, and fuck. She’s too gay and too tipsy for this. Lexa’s wearing a white t-shirt with words Clarke can’t quite make out, but it shows off her tattoos and drapes just right and it’s taking all the self-control Clarke has not to think about taking it off of her.

“Can I get a Coke?” Clarke looks down in some attempt to keep Lexa from recognizing her.

“Sure,” she says without looking up, and Clarke breathes. She’s off the hook.

“Oh hey. You’re the girl who ran into me the other day.” Lexa smiles, handing her a Coke, and it looks like she’s trying to hold back a laugh.

Well, shit.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t remember that.”

“What, did you think you gave me a concussion? I’m stronger than you’d think,” Lexa says, and Clarke has no doubt about that. She’s also starting to think that Raven might be right about Lexa flirting.

“Sorry about that. Again. Apparently I’m even more of a mess than usual this week.”

“Don’t worry. At least you’re staying off the drinks tonight.” Lexa gestures at Clarke’s soda.

“Figured I would at least _try_ not embarrass myself tonight.”

“Good thinking,” Lexa says, and Clarke could swear she winks, but it’s dark in here and she might be imagining things.

Lexa turns around to serve a couple of twenty-something guys, and Clarke can’t hear her, but she’s pretty sure she’s not flirting with them.

 You know what? Fuck it. She’s going home in a few days, she’s never going to see this girl again. What’s the harm in a little fling? Raven would sure be happy with her, anyway.

When Lexa comes back, Clarke tries to get her attention.

“Hey, Lexa?”

Lexa leans over the counter, one hand under her chin. “Yes?”

Clarke suddenly forgets everything she was trying to say. “Um. I know this is probably ridiculous, given my history of doing stupid things around you, but could I maybe buy you a drink when you get off your shift?”

Lexa smiles. "That depends. Do I get to know my mysterious suitor's name?"

"Oh. Um. Right. I'm Clarke."

"Nice to meet you, Clarke." Lexa smirks a little. "I'm Lexa." She gestures at her name tag. "But you probably already knew that."

Clarke ducks her head. Apparently she's more transparent than she'd like. 

“And t _his_ is probably ridiculous, but yes, Clarke. I’m off at 10. I’ll come find you?”

Wow. Her name sounds better when Lexa says it. 

“Um. Sure. Yes. Perfect.” She kind of can’t believe that actually worked. 

She heads back to the dance floor to tell Raven and O., but turns around one last time – after all, Lexa did say yes. She has a little more of an excuse to stare.

Apparently Lexa does too, because Clarke catches her eyes before Lexa busies herself arranging a stack of glasses that look like they were doing just fine as they were. She laughs. Score one for Clarke.

“Guess who’s got a date with the hot bartender?”

“No!” Raven and Octavia say in unison.

Clarke smirks. “What, you didn’t believe in me?”

“No! No.” Raven stutters a little. “I’m just. Damn. Go Clarke.”

“Damn straight. I’ve got an hour or so to kill before she gets off her shift. Wanna dance?”

“Please.”

So Clarke dances alternately with Raven and Octavia, moving until she’s out of breath and laughing. She sneaks glances at the bar every so often, and more often than not Lexa’s looking back. Whether the smile is an attempt at flirting or just Lexa laughing at her, Clarke’s not sure, but with those lips, she’ll take it.

Ten comes faster than she expected, but Clarke doesn’t realize it until she feels a hand on her shoulder and turns around to find Lexa. Who is a lot closer than she’s ever been.

(Well, except for the crash, but Clarke would rather pretend that never happened.)

“So. About that drink.” Clarke nearly chokes at the way Lexa smirks. “Can I tear you off the dance floor for a little while?”

“Um. Yes.”

Lexa laughs. “Good. Are you a beer girl?”

“I’m a whatever-my-friends-order kind of girl, normally, so yes.”

“Perfect.” Lexa orders from the late shift bartender, who she clearly knows, and Clarke tries not to stare at her ass. She doesn’t try very _hard._ But she tries.

“To impromptu collisions.” Lexa raises her glass.

“To impromptu collisions. That the cute girl refuses to let go of.”

Lexa smiles. “And?”

Clarke doesn’t have a good answer for that, so she holds out a hand. “Dance with me? I promise I’m better on my feet than I am on a snowboard.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Lexa sets their drinks down and leads her out to dance before Clarke realizes what’s happening.

Wow. She hasn’t seen much of Lexa yet, but Clarke hadn’t thought she’d be so much of a leader. And a damn good one, too. Lexa is an incredible dancer. She probably should have expected it, given how elegant of a skier she is, but Lexa can _move_. For a little while, Clarke watches without touching her, catching Lexa’s eyes when she turns around and rolling her hips a little more than usual. She hasn’t been dancing in a few months, but Clarke still knows what she’s doing.

After a few songs worth of dancing closer and closer, the music slows down a little and Lexa steps forward. When she licks her lips and slips her hands over Clarke’s shoulders, all Clarke can think about is her hands, how strong her arms are, the way her fingertips brush at the back of Clarke’s neck.

With Lexa’s hands thrown loosely around her neck, it’s all Clarke can do to keep herself upright, let alone move to the beat.

Lexa seems to like it, though, hooking a finger through Clarke’s belt loops to draw her closer, and Clarke swears she can feel every inch of her body crackle. She can’t take this much longer.

Clarke leans in. “I’m getting kind of warm. Want to go take a break on the deck?”

Lexa smiles like she knows exactly what Clarke is hinting at. “Sure.”

So they head out to the back, which is completely empty. Probably because it’s freezing, but that’s the last thing Clarke cares about right now. She slides one hand up Lexa’s arm, admiring her tattoos, and lets it settle at her neck. Lexa smiles – she knows what Clarke’s doing, and she’s not shy about it either. Clarke leans in and meets Lexa’s eyes, asking for permission.

What she gets is Lexa’s fingers wound through her hair, pulling them together, pulling Clarke into her. Lexa skips right through tentative and into insistent, tongue teasing at the edge of her lips. God, her lips are so _soft_. Clarke’s been imagining them all night but they’re even better now, out in the cold air that makes her want more, closer, and Lexa doesn’t taste like the bar or the beer she’s been drinking, she tastes like forest and sun and warmth and Clarke wants _more_ , she’s pushing their hips together and Lexa gets the hint and pulls Clarke in by the waist of her shorts and _fuck_. Clarke is going to die, right here, on this deck, of how incredibly good a kisser Lexa is.

That’s about when she stops having any thoughts at all, because Lexa tugs at her hair and Clarke gasps, and Lexa takes the opportunity to use her tongue, and now all Clarke is thinking about is how to make Lexa gasp that same way.

When Lexa pulls away, smiling, Clarke is breathless. She feels her cheeks flush, and Lexa smirks. Fuck, this girl will be the death of her. And she kind of likes it.

Lexa, meanwhile, is starting to shiver, and Clarke would really like to take this someplace a little less … outside.

“Hey, you want to go somewhere warmer? My roommates will happily stay out of my room for the night.”

Lexa smiles, and Clarke flushes even deeper. Shit, she might actually say yes.

“Sorry, I have another job to work in the morning – college tuition is hell. I wish I could. Another time?”

Damn. She’s a little disappointed, but Clarke shrugs. “I’m going back to school tomorrow afternoon, but it’s okay. Thanks for a great night. Lexa.” Her name feels good in Clarke’s mouth.

Lexa smiles and leans in to kiss Clarke right below her ear. “Thanks for a great night.”

Clarke is really, really regretting not making O. and Raven stay another night. Fuck.

But this was a one-night fling, and Clarke knows she’s not in the mood for anything serious, anyway. It’s probably for the best. Even if she was an incredible kisser.

Damn.

\---

The three of them drive home the next day – while making Clarke tell them, in excruciating detail, exactly what happened the night before.

Raven turns around from the driver’s seat. “So was she a good kisser?”

Clarke sighs. “Yes.”

“Wow, she must have been good. You’re all one-word answers and dreamy sighs.” Octavia grins.

“Oh, shut up. You already heard the story.”

“Wow, more than three words!”

“Hey, you better respect my two-word answers or you’re not getting any more details!”

“Fine, fine. So did you sleep with her?”

“No. Unfortunately. She works mornings.”

“But you wanted to, though.”

“Yes, Octavia, god damn it, I wanted to sleep with her.”

“Hey, if you can get her, you can get anybody,” Raven says, looking up from trying to navigate the mountain roads.

“Thanks, Rae. I appreciate the ego boost.”

“She must have been enough of an ego boost. Wow.” Octavia sighs.

“What, I’m not hot enough for you?” Raven grins and leans over to sneak a quick kiss on Octavia’s cheek.

“Hey, no PDA while you’re driving, Reyes. I’d like to make it home in one piece.”

“Fine, fine. At least you’re not driving. You’d be daydreaming too much about dreamy kisser Lexa to concentrate.”

“I did not say she was dreamy!”

“You heavily implied it.”

Clarke pouts in the backseat. “You guys are the worst. Why am I friends with you?”

“Because we drag you out to bars so you can meet hot girls,” Octavia says.

“Oh, fine. You know I love you.”

Clarke spends the rest of the drive alternating between reading her anatomy textbook and daydreaming about kissing Lexa. She’s not about to admit it to Raven, but dreamy isn’t… entirely inaccurate.

\---

When they finally get home and see campus, it’s a little bit of a letdown.

Raven shrugs. “Well, back to the grind.”

“It was fun while it lasted,” Clarke says.

“Come on, guys, you don’t have to entirely give up on life just because we’re back at school,” Octavia says.

Raven holds up her Structural Engineering textbook. “You sure about that, sweetheart?”

“Fine, fine. You’re probably right. But we should try and go out again, okay? Once a month would be good for you two shut-ins.”

Clarke laughs. “You’re probably right, O. Hound me about that the next time I’m in the lab on a Friday night, okay?”

“Happily.”

Clarke smiles and tosses her bag over her shoulder to start the trek back to her dorm. Their break is pretty much over and Raven’s right, it’s back to two labs a week. And she’s taking an English class this semester, which is going to kick her ass. But their little escape was fun.

Really fun.

\---

The next day, Clarke has to drag her ass out of bed at 8am for her 8:30 English class. Ugh. Getting up at eight to go snowboard and flirt with hot girls was easy. Getting up at eight to go read 19th century British literature? Not so much.

Clarke takes a seat near the back, where she hopefully won’t be called on, and waits – despite her famous slow mornings, she’s actually here a little bit early. The class trickles in a little bit at a time. It’s a decent-size, enough to get lost in and not have to be an expert. That’s good for her.

Clarke is just settled in when a girl walks into the lecture hall and she does a double take. She’s wearing a gray sweater and glasses and her hair is in a braid, and she looks kind of different, but. Shit. It’s definitely Lexa.

Fuck.

Clarke didn’t ask where she went to school, she just assumed she’d have seen her if she was around here all the time.

Luckily, Lexa takes a seat in the front before she notices Clarke, so Clarke has five minutes to sit there and ponder the back of her head. (Which is… actually really pretty. That’s not fair at all.)

She’s trying to formulate a plan for after class – escape quietly, wave, talk to her, melt into the floor? – when the professor clears his throat.

“Ahem. Welcome to 19th Century British Literature. You are here to learn about the greats, the classics of modern literature. Austen, Dickens…”

Clarke is ready to nod off again, but the professor keeps going.

“Before I go further, though, allow me to introduce your TA for this section. She’s available to help with questions or direction for your papers. Lexa, would you introduce yourself?”

Oh, shit. She’s the _TA._

Lexa stands up. “Hi, everyone, I’m Lexa Woods, and I’ll have office-”

Clarke catches Lexa’s eyes and she goes bright red. Lexa tries to continue, tripping over her words – “I’ll have office – office hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

Why not take advantage of an opportunity, right? Clarke waits until Lexa looks at her again, smirks, and mouths

“So, another time?”

 


End file.
